Your heart dropped to your stomach as you pressed your headset further into your ear.
"James? James?!"
Static answered.
Your head whipped to Clint, whom had stuck behind to help you, the technical analyst. He wasn't meeting your gaze as he stared at the floor with a grim face.
"Steve, give me an update. The signal's cutting out. What's going on?"
"The enemy is coming in. Tons of 'em. It was a trap."
"Then abort. Get out of there as soon as you can get everybody."
"Got it."
"And Bucky?"
Silence faded in and you thought you had lost the connection for a moment.
"He's gone."
"Gone? What on Earth do you mean, 'gone'? Is he-"
"I don't know, (Y/N)." Steve was panting and you could hear the quinjet's engine roaring to life. "He was the first in, he was surveying the area, making sure the coast was clear-"
"Yes, I know that!" You broke in. You realized you were out of line when Clint shot you a look.
"Then, the door slammed shut. Before we knew it, they were pouring in like a flood. I couldn't see 'im."
Tears welled in your eyes and you started shaking.
"(Y/N), I'm so sorry. I know how much Buck meant-"
"Forget it, Steve. Once you guys get back and regroup, we can talk."
You gave a nod to Clint as you got up, signaling for him to take over.
You carried yourself to your room, making sure to stay stone-faced for any cameras watching in the hall.
When you made it to to your room, you locked your door and took a hold of your pillow.
And then, you broke.
•••••
*12 weeks later*
Mission after mission were spent searching for Bucky. Every time, your hopes were built up, and then crushed. You were wallowed up to your neck in despair, which turned to disgruntlement with others on the team, and soon, you were just plain angry. All the time.
You rarely came out of your room, only to eat, or collect your next paperwork from Coulson. You were getting assigned less and less on missions, and you were getting less social with others.
You started sleeping at your house again, instead of your convenient room at the Avengers tower. You kept casual contact with Steve, him being your last bit of support.
Yet, everyone understood. This was how you were in the beginning when SHIELD first contacted you. Steve became your first friend, always trying to make everyone feel welcome and wanted. Eventually, SHIELD fell and you found out about the Winter Soldier.
With Steve being your best friend, your time was filled with story after story of Steve and- Bucky, taking on Brooklyn and then the world. (War)
When you finally met him, you were the first person to see him after Steve. And you gave him a hug.
After that, everything flew. You became friends, and soon something more. You were the light of his life, while Steve was the support he needed. You two were inseparable, until...
Knock, knock
Your head jerked up from your rest. You found yourself on the couch. Again. You were becoming a mess. There was some cleaning that needed too...
Knock, knock
You flew up to the door, a rant ready for Steve. It would have been the fourth time that night checking up on you.
You opened the door.
"Steven Grant Rogers-"
It wasn't Steve.
It was James.
He was practically beat to a pulp, with mud and blood mixed across his clothes and body.
"James," you breathed.
"May I?" He gestured inside.
You moved to the side, shock still plastered on your features.
He stepped inside, looking around your house. He was hesitant with every move he made; from pain or uncertainty, you didn't know. Finally his gaze rested gently on you as you looked him up in down. He seemed to be waiting for you to speak.
Before you knew it, the words had already toppled out of your mouth.
"Don't bleed on my floor."
A grin, the most brilliant one you had ever seen, cracked across his gorgeous face. (Despite the grime.)
He took two long strides before he wrapped you in a strong, warm, and much-needed hug.
"That's my girl," he whispered.
And you found yourself hugging him back.
Bloody, bruised, cut, dirty, smelly, assassin, warrior, lost- it all didn't matter.
He was home.
________________________
A/N: Hello! Thank you for reading; you know the drill! More are coming, so stay tuned!
So long, my beauts!
~Sports_books_1816
